


A Well-Kept Secret

by rosecake



Category: Bloodline (TV 2015)
Genre: Backstory, Brief Danny/OFC, Canon Typical Issues, Gen, Hallucinations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-04 16:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12172563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: Danny doesn't tell anyone else about Sarah.  That's just between the two of them.





	A Well-Kept Secret

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SegaBarrett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SegaBarrett/gifts).



> Any excuse to write about Danny! I hope you have a lovely exchange ♥

Danny was smart enough not to tell anyone about Sarah. He might've pulled some dumb stunts in his life, but he was still smarter than that. He already knew how his family would react if he told them he still saw her, and it wouldn't be good. Mom would go quiet and pull away, and the next time he saw her she'd smile, brittle and unconvincing, and act like he'd never said anything about it. Meg would do the same thing. Kevin would get pissed, scream at him, probably accuse him of making it up for attention or some shit like that, and then wail on him. Dad would just go straight for the beating.

Now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure how John would react, but he wasn't curious enough to find out. He already decided a long time ago to spare himself the pain and keep it a secret.

The only living person he ever told about her was a one-night stand in Boca Raton, back when he was younger, before Nolan was born. And the only reason he'd told her was because he was certain he was never going to see her again come morning. As far as he was concerned, telling something to a total stranger was the same as not saying it at all. He can't even remember her name now, or even really what she looked like. All he remembered was that one little part of their conversation afterwards. He told her he was from the Keys, and she said something about how pretty the water was down there, and it had just slipped right out of him.

"My sister drowned in the water where we grew up. She got a hand stuck in the rocks and couldn't get free in time."

"Jesus, really? I'm sorry," she said. By that point in the night they were both pretty messed up, but she still sounded mostly sincere even though her words were slurred together.

So he kept going. "I still see her sometimes. There's a ghost of her inside my head, and she talks to me."

"That's fucked up, man," she said sympathetically. "You should get therapy or something."

It wasn't the first time somebody told him he needed professional help getting his head straight, and it wasn't the last time either. The problem was, that wasn't really what he wanted. At least not when it came to Sarah. Sure, it wasn't a good sign when you had regular hallucinations of your dead sister, but he'd still miss her if she was gone.

*

There was a period there where his life, if not great, was at least going okay. Well enough that he started thinking that maybe things might get better, might even be great in the future, if not right at that moment. He'd made some mistakes, and maybe he'd even get the chance to fix a few of those.

He didn't see Sarah around as much then. Sure, he still dreamed about her, he knew he was always going to have the dreams until he died, but when he woke up things were normal.  There was a firm line between when he was awake and when he wasn't, between what was real and what was just in his head.    

But when things went to shit again, like they always did, she was right back with him.

"Sorry," he said, even though he wasn't sure why he was apologizing to a ghost. Maybe this was were he'd fucked up. Maybe he'd come too close to forgetting about her, to moving on.

"You don't have to apologize," she said, lying down next to him, her weight making no impression on the bed. He might be in bed, but he was pretty sure he wasn't actually asleep yet. "You don't have to go back if you don't want to, either."

"I know," he said, even though she was wrong. He did have to go back. He didn't have anywhere else to go, and there was no way he could stay in Miami. He'd fucked up way too badly to stay in Miami.

"But you're going to go anyway."

"Yes," he said. He rolled over on his side and looked in her eyes, trying to ignore the glint of the gold chain around her neck. "You know, I can never tell if you're supposed to be my better nature, or my worst instincts, or what."

"Don't think of it like that," she said. "I'm none of those things. I'm just you."

*

He looked out over the water, rolling his cigarette between his fingers and wishing that he had something stronger than just a cigarette.

It was a beautiful night, with a clear view of the water under the moonlight, and the first thing anyone ever talked about when they got to the Keys was how beautiful it was and that was because it was true. Ever single detail of the place was etched in his memory, unforgettable, and still every time he came he was startled by how fucking beautiful it really was. It was the kind of beauty that could trick a person into believing nothing bad could ever happen there even after they'd lived through it.

Maybe that was why he kept coming back. Maybe it was the sea telling him he wanted to stay, that maybe things could be different this time, even though he knew full well nothing every really changed here. Nothing ever changed for Danny, and nothing ever changed for the rest of them.

"Do you think coming back was the right decision?" asked Sarah.

She leaned closer to him as she spoke, her hair falling down in front of her face, and he wanted to reach out and brush it back behind her ear. He stopped himself, though, because she wasn't real. He couldn't touch her.

He could sometimes, when it was late and he'd stumbled across the exact right cocktail of drugs to flood his system and fuel his delusions. Then he could feel her, heavy and warm. He could even smell her, like ocean water when he inhaled, like she was still alive and real, and those sensations stayed with him even in the clear light of day long after he'd sobered up.

Right now, though, he only had the cigarette, and nicotine wasn't enough to rearrange the world the way he wanted it.

"Of course not," he said. He'd never made the right decision, not once in his entire life, and if there was a time when he could have changed he'd long since passed it.

"You could make a different decision, then. You could leave."

Danny could leave, for a few months, a few years maybe, and then he'd be back again whether he meant to or not. The place was like a magnet, and he couldn't escape the pull of it.

He exhaled smoke. "No. Not this time."

"Okay," she said, leaning back into the sand. "Stay or leave, I'll be with you either way."

And she always would be. It was twisted, the way secrets had eaten up and destroyed every other part of his life, but those were secrets he had to carry for other people. Sarah was his, and his alone, and in the end she was the only thing he had.

He loved her for it so much.


End file.
